CHAPTER XXIV
THE SOLAR PLEXUS
It was after the dinner hour that we found ourselves at the Country Clubagain. Wyndham had not come back from the city, but Allison was thereand had gathered together all the Club help so that Kennedy mightquestion them.
He did question them down in the locker-room, I thought perhaps for themoral effect. The chef, whom I had suspected of knowing something, wasthere, but proved to be unenlightening. In fact, no one seemed to haveanything to contribute. Quite the contrary. They could not even suggesta way in which the trunk might have been taken from the steward's room.
"That's not very difficult," smiled Kennedy, as one after another theservants asserted that it would be impossible to get it around the turnsin the stairs without making a noise. "Where was Benson's room?"
The chef led the way to the door, that by which we had gone out beforewhen we had seen the rubbish barrels.
"Up there," he pointed, "on the third floor."
There was no fire escape, nor were there any outside balconies, and Iwondered how Craig would account for it.
"Someone might have lowered the trunk from the window by a rope, mightthey not?" he asked simply.
"Yes," returned the chef, unconvinced. "But his door was locked and hehad his keys in his pocket. How about that?"
"It doesn't follow that he was killed in his room, does it?" askedCraig. "In fact it is altogether impossible that he could have been.Suppose he was killed outside. Might not someone have taken the keysfrom his pocket, gone up to the room without making any noise and letthe trunk down here by a rope? Then if he had dropped the rope, lockedthe door, and returned the keys to Benson's pockets--how about that?"
It was so simple and feasible that no one could deny it. Yet I could notsee that it furthered us in solving the greater mystery.
We went up to the steward's room and searched his belongings, withoutfinding anything that merited even that expenditure of time.
However, Craig was confident now, although he did not say much, and by alate train we returned to the city in preference to using Mrs. Ferris'scar.
All the next day, Kennedy was engaged, either in his laboratory or on anerrand that took him downtown during most of the middle of the day.
When he returned, I could tell by the look on his face that his quest,whatever it had been, had been successful.
"I found Wyndham--had a long talk with him," was all he would say inanswer to my questions, before he went back to whatever he was studyingat the laboratory.
I had made some inquiries myself in the meantime, especially aboutWyndham. As nearly as I could make out, the young men at Briar Lakewere afflicted with a disease which is very prevalent--the desire to getrich quick. In that respect Fraser Ferris was no better than the rest.Nor was Irving Evans. Allan Wyndham had been a plunger almost fromboyhood, and only the tight rein that his conservative father held overhim had checked him. Sometimes the young men succeeded, and that hadserved only to whet their appetites for more easy money. But more oftenthey had failed. In most cases, it seemed, Dean Allison's firm had beenthe brokers through whom they dealt, particularly Wyndham.
In fact, with more time on my hands during the day than I knew what todo with, in the absence of Kennedy I had evolved several very prettylittle theories of the case which involved the recouping of dissipatedfortunes by marriage with the popular young heiress.
It was late in the afternoon that the telephone rang, and, as Craig wasbusy, I answered it.
"Oh, Mr. Jameson," I heard Mrs. Ferris's voice calling over longdistance from Briar Lake anxiously, "is Mr. Kennedy there? Please let mespeak to him."
I hastened to hand over the receiver to Kennedy and waited impatientlyuntil he finished.
"A special grand jury has been empanelled for ten o'clock tomorrowmorning," he said as he turned from the wire and faced me, "and unlesswe can do something immediately, they are sure to find an indictment."
Kennedy scowled and shook his head. "It looks to me as if someone weremighty anxious to railroad young Ferris along," he remarked, hurryingacross to the laboratory table, where he had been at work, and flingingoff his stained smock.
"Well, are you ready for them?" I asked.
"Yes," he replied quickly. "Call up and find out about the trains toBriar Lake, Walter."
I found that we could easily get a train that would have us at theCountry Club not later than eight o'clock, and as I turned to tellKennedy, I saw him carefully packing into a case a peculiar shaped flaskwhich he had been using in some of his experiments. Outside it had afelt jacket, and as we hurried over to the station Kennedy carried itcarefully in the case by a handle.
The ride out to Briar Lake seemed interminable, but it was better thangoing up in a car at night, and Mrs. Ferris met us anxiously at thestation.
Thus, early in the evening, in the little reception room of the CountryClub, there gathered a large party, not the largest it had seen, butcertainly the most interested. In fact no one, except young Ferris, hadany legitimate reason for staying away.
"Dead men tell no tales," remarked Kennedy sententiously, as he facedus, having whispered to me that he wanted me to take a position near thedoor and stay there, no matter what happened. "But," he added, "scienceopens their mute mouths. Science has become the greatest detective inthe world.
"Once upon a time, it is true, many a murderer was acquitted and perhapsmany an innocent man hanged because of appearances. But today theassassin has to reckon with the chemist, the physicist, the X-rayexpert, and a host of others. They start on his track and force him toface damning, dispassionate scientific facts.
"And," he went on, raising his voice a trifle, "science, with equalzeal, brings facts to clear an innocent man protesting his innocence,but condemned by circumstantial evidence."
For a moment he paused, and when he began again it was evident that hewas going straight to the point at issue in the case.
"Various theories have been confidently proposed in this unfortunateaffair which resulted in the death of Irving Evans," he proceeded. "Onething I want clear at the start. The fact is, and I am not runningcounter to it, that we have what might very well be called two brains.One is in the head, does the thinking. The other is a sort of abdominalbrain, controls nutrition and a host of other functions, automatically.It is the solar plexus--the epigastric, sympathetic nervous system.
"It is true that the knot of life is situated at the base of the cranialbrain. One jab of a needle and it might be quickly extinguished. Yetderangement of the so-called abdominal brain destroys life aseffectually, though perhaps not so quickly. A shock to the abdominalbrain of young Evans has been administered--in a most remarkablemanner."
I could see Mrs. Ferris watching him with staring eyes, for Kennedy wasdoing just what many a lawyer does--stating first the bad side of one'scase, and seeming to establish the contention of the opposite side.
"It was an unfortunate blow," he admitted, "perhaps even dangerous. Butit was not deadly. What happened downstairs in the gymnasium must betaken into account with what happened afterwards in the locker and bothconsidered in the light of the death of the steward, Benson, later.
"The mark on the stomach of Irving Evans was due to something else thanthe blow. Everyone has noticed that. It was a peculiar mark and no mereblow could have produced it.
"Weird in conception, horribly cunning in its execution was this attemptat murder," he added, taking from the case the peculiar flask which Ihad seen him pack up.
He held it up so that we could see. It was evidently composed of twoflasks, one inside the other, the outer encased in felt, as I had seen,the inner coated with quicksilver and a space between the two. Insidewas a peculiar liquid which had a bluish tinge, but was odorless. Fromthe surface a thin vapor seemed to rise.
It was not corked, but from the neck he pulled out a light cottonstopper. As he agitated the liquid slightly, it had the appearance ofboiling. He turned over the bottle and spilled some of it on the floor.I
t evaporated instantly, like water on a hot stove.
Then he took from his pocket a small tin cup and poured out into it someof the liquid, letting it stand a few moments, smoking.
He poured back the liquid into the flask and dropped the cup on thehardwood floor. It shattered as if it had been composed of glass.
One of the men in the front row moved forward to pick up the pieces.
"Just a minute," interfered Kennedy. "If you think anything of yourfingers, let that be. In the rubbish, just outside the locker-room,yesterday, I discovered the remains of a thermos bottle and of a metalcup like this which I have dropped on the floor. I have examined thecup, or rather the pieces.
"These two murders were committed by one of the least knownagencies--freezing, by liquid air."
I could hear a gasp from the auditors and I knew that someone's heartmust be icy at the discovery of the portentous secret.
"I have some liquid air in this Dewar flask," continued Kennedy. "Thatis what liquid air is usually kept in. But it may be kept in an ordinarythermos bottle quite well, also.
"If I should drop just a minute bit on my hand, it would probably boilaway without hurting me, for it evaporates so quickly that it forms alayer or film of air which prevents contact of the terribly cold liquidair and the skin. I might thrust my finger in it for a few seconds andit would not hurt me. But if I kept it there my finger would becomebrittle and actually break off, so terrible is the cold of one hundredand ninety degrees below zero, Centigrade. It produces an instantaneousfrost bite, numbing so quickly that it often is hardly felt. Placed onthe surface of flesh this way, it changes it to a pearly-white, solidsurface. The thawing, however, is intensely painful, giving first aburning sensation, then a stinging, flushed feeling, exactly as IrvingEvans described what he felt. The part affected swells and a crust formswhich it takes weeks to heal, supposing the part affected is small.
"Someone, in that locker-room," continued Craig, "placed a piece ofcotton soaked in liquid air on the stomach of the unconscious boy.Instantly, before anyone noticed it, it froze through to the solarplexus. Ultimately that was bound to kill him. And who would bear theblame? Why, Fraser Ferris, of course. The accident in the bout affordedan opportunity to use the stuff which the criminal in his wildest dreamscould not have bettered."
"How about Benson, the steward?" spoke up a voice.
We turned. It was the Coroner, loath even yet to give up the officialtheory.
"That was a pure accident," returned Kennedy. "The club, as you know, isa temperance club. But the members, or at least some of them, keepdrinks in their lockers. The steward, Benson, knew this. It has beenshown that Benson had been in town that evening, had imbibedconsiderably.
"He had observed one of the members of the club take from his lockersomething which he thought was to revive young Evans. What more natural,then, than for him to visit that locker when he returned from town, openit?
"He found a thermos bottle. Instead of the regular cork, it had a lightcotton stopper. In his muddled state, the steward did not stop tothink--even if he had, he would have seen no reason for carefullycorking something that was not designed to keep in a thermos bottle.
"But instead of whiskey, the bottle contained what had not yetevaporated of the liquid air. You may not know it, but liquid air can beeasily preserved in open vessels with a stopper which allows thepassage of the evaporated air. However paradoxical it may seem, itcannot be kept in closed vessels, for enormous pressures are at oncebrought into play.
"Benson opened the bottle and poured out some of the contents in themetal cup-cap of the bottle. He raised it to his lips--swallowed it--orthat much of it that did not paralyze him. It expanded, boiled,exploded--producing the ghastly wound by almost literally blowing himup.
"The owner of the liquid air, who must have had it there waiting achance to use it, was probably waiting up in the club rooms now, for achance to get rid of it as evidence. He must have heard a noise down inthe locker-room. What if he had been observed and someone were downthere investigating?
"He hurried down there. To his horror, in the darkness, he found Benson,already dead, the locker open, the thermos bottle broken and the cupsmashed.
"It was a terrible clew. He must get that body away from thelocker-room. He could throw the bottle out; no one could suspectanything when the air had evaporated, as it soon would, now. But thebody--that was different. The method he employed in getting rid of thebody, I think you all must already know."
I had been watching Wyndham's face keenly. As Craig proceeded, I fanciedthat I saw in it a look of startled surprise.
"_Was_ it one of Anita Allison's many admirers who did this thing?"Craig asked suddenly.
I turned from Wyndham to Craig, wondering. What did he mean? Everyonehad accepted that theory of the case so far. No one had questioned it.But, with his words, it suddenly dawned on me that it was by no meansthe only theory.
Before Craig could go on, there came a startled cry from one of theladies.
"Oh--he did it--he did it!"
Anita Allison had fainted.
Dean Allison was at his sister's side in a moment.
"Here--let me get her out into the fresh air," he cried.
Wyndham had started up at the words and the two men were facing eachother over the girl who had already discovered the secret, but had keptit locked in her breast.
"Walter--lock that door," rang out Craig's voice mercilessly.
I backed up, my whole weight against it, and turned the key.
"I know the gossip of Wall Street now," shot out Kennedy hurriedly,facing the crowd who were all on their feet. "Today I have visited anumber of speculative young gentlemen of Briar Lake, including Mr.Wyndham.
"The truth is that Miss Allison's fortune was gone--dissipated in anunsuccessful bear raid on the market in which others have shared--andlost.
"If she had married, it meant an accounting and surrendering of her fullcontrol of her fortune. You have done this dastardly crime, DeanAllison, to keep your sister in ignorance of the loss and to save yourown miserable reputation!"